


to know my own face

by chadiolus



Category: DC Animated Universe, Young Justice (Cartoon)
Genre: F/M, Identity Issues, also i feel like the title is better than the actual fic im sorry, i feel like that's something artemis might have struggled with while wearing the charm, i might write a follow-up but idk, the ending is kind of ambiguous so, this takes place during season two
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-29
Updated: 2016-07-29
Packaged: 2018-07-27 11:53:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7617055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chadiolus/pseuds/chadiolus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She tries to remind herself of how she will feel when this is all over, once they’ve won – but what confidence she had in their supposed victory is slowly slipping, rising in the crests of the waves above and evading her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	to know my own face

**Author's Note:**

> artemis and kaldur were some of the few characters i like from the yj animated series (that i haven't watched in so long) so i had to write something for them (also, what an underappreciated ship)
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> **pls give me criticism / comments it's the only way i can feed my children**
> 
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> 
> on tumblr [@superbqy](http://www.superbqy.tumblr.com)

The walls of her cabin are always cool to the touch, and hum beneath her fingertips like a sensory lullaby when she traces patterns over its worn face at night. Something about it all makes being trapped inside a metal, undersea ship feel a little more bearable.

 

She wonders, one quiet night, if this is how the characters of 20,000 League Under the Sea felt; she’s never read the book, but Wally has, so she’ll have to ask him when they reunite.

 

(The quiet voice that has always sounded just a bit too much like her father supplies an unwanted, “If you reunite.” Usually muted, when she's alone at night the voice is louder than the slamming of boots against the metal corridors outside her door.)  

 

When she dreams, tucked beneath thin sheets and dreading having to wake another morning in enemy territory, she imagines of stacks of take-out on a rickety coffee table and a brilliant smile. If she tries hard enough, she can feel the soft, pliant body of her lover, comforting in its contrast to her hard, angular muscles, curled around her. The stable domesticity she once shared with Wally feels like a life already lived and lost too soon. The ocean has taken that from her too, held it mercilessly under the waves until it drowned.

 

Tonight only the memory of these memories is with her. It's hard to sleep when she feels like she's suffocating, and the choker clasped around her neck doesn't exactly help.

 

A grip of unwelcome anxiety vines its way through her rib cage. Her fingers curl until she is pressing her knuckles solidly against the wall beside her head and her nails threaten to rip through the layers of callouses on her palm. Her breath rattles her lungs even as it agitates the small tufts of hair on the blanket across her chest.

 

Nightwing - Dick - had promised that Zatanna's charm would disguise the archer from most of the world. If she ever had any doubt of that, the very fact that she hasn’t been killed yet has gotten rid of it. She knows that Kaldur is the only other one aboard this ship who knows _her_ ; he knows Artemis, not Tigress.

 

She shifts uneasily in her narrow bed, and is sure that Kaldur has always known her better than most. As team leader it was his job to know his team inside and out, to understand them and to help them grow, but Kaldur, even now, has always pushed himself beyond requirement and beyond expectation.

 

As much as she admires him for it, it’s also to blame for her being stuck inside an underwater ship.

 

She realizes with a small nip to the inside of her lip that the visceral tug of her worries won’t let her sleep tonight. She curls her body over the side of the bed to stand with no mind for grace or performance. The clock near her door reads that it is well into the night, but there’s no one else to turn to here and she needs him for something – what that is, she’s not quite sure, but she knows she needs it.

 

Her bare feet carry her almost unthinkingly to his room, taking care not to run into any of Black Manta’s ridiculous goons.

 

Their friendship bloomed from nearly the beginning; she’s sure that, in her early days with the team, he was one of the few that she could genuinely trust. He offered support and comradery when the others took her anger and turned away from her for it, and she came to care for him like she did few others. Artemis could always depend on him when she could few others.

 

It’s for that reason that she finds herself jogging down the chilling corridors. (Not only chilling because the cool metal strikes at her bare feet with every step, but also because, were it not for the carefully placed clocks around the halls, Artemis wouldn’t be able to tell the difference between night and day. Sometimes, she’s still sure she can’t.)

 

When she reaches his room, she wastes no time with knocking. Kaldur maintains a strict sleep schedule, and she’s going to wake him whether she knocks or not. She considers feeling guilty about that before remembering it’s half his fault that she’s stuck down her to begin with (except she’s not sure it could be his fault for being burdened with this. How could she blame him for being stuck with this awful heritage? How could she blame him for giving up everything to try and fight it?).

 

Kaldur’ahm’s silver eyes are tired but concerned when they meet Artemis’. She realizes she doesn’t know how long she’s been standing in the doorway, just that her chest is heaving and the world feels too light, like everything around her took a shot of helium at their best friend’s twelfth birthday party. She wonders with a certain hopelessness at what he is really seeing when he looks at her.

 

A moment of silence passes between them (he’s waiting for her to tell him what’s wrong, she realizes). There’s a suffocating ache at the base of her throat and she’s not sure she can tell him. Artemis doesn’t know if she can articulate her fears like this, even when it’s just the two of them, because this is newer and it’s frightening beyond measure.

 

“Tigress, what is it?” She flinches at the name and doubts that escapes his notice; his silver eyes catch every one of her movements.

 

“Artemis.” She doesn’t quite meet his eyes. The scratch along the wall above his bed is suddenly much more interesting than her oncoming panic. “I’m Artemis.”

 

A pause.

 

“Artemis what’s wrong?” His voice is strong and sure and worried. He is sure. Kaldur knows this is Artemis, whether she’s wearing the charm or not. Artemis is still alive, even if most of the world believes otherwise.

 

Her fingers unclench as he stands from the bed, but her body is still tight in place as she licks her dry lips and tries to stammer out an answer. “I-…I had to make sure. That I – I’m still me, I guess.”

 

The hard edges to his face soften into what is too close to pity for her comfort. He must understand the glare directed at him, and what it means, but he doesn’t act on it.

 

“ _Artemis_ ,” He is close enough that she can smell him now, and far enough that she can stop him. When she doesn’t, he lays his palms flat on her biceps. The muscles flex underneath his soft skin – more of an automatic response than anything – and he slides one hand down to her elbow. Her breath catches in her throat again.

 

Silence reigns between them for a distinct moment. Kaldur seems contemplative, and as much as Artemis wants to walk away before she makes an even bigger fool of herself, she wants to hear what he has to say.

 

“Take off the charm.” His eyes meet hers. His eyes meet Tigress’s

 

“You can’t be serious. That’s be a risk to both us and the mission, Kaldur.” Artemis hisses back, well-aware that one of Black Manta’s ever-dispensable cronies could walk by at any moment. Kaldur nods his head and movies to close the door.

 

“It’s just for tonight, Artemis.” Artemis opens her mouth to speak but he continues, mouth pulling down further into a frown. “You can…stay with me tonight. No one will discover you.”

 

She wants to protest, wants to argue further because there’s definitely something wrong with their decision here, but he’s looking at her with these eyes that have always felt like oasis and she wants, for one night, to find refuge with them.

 

His bed is just as narrow as her own, but it’s stable. His body, despite it’s strange aquatic biology, is warm around her and she doesn’t want to think about how safe it feels. How he’s always felt like the safest person in the room.

 

She focuses on the end result instead. She tries to remind herself of how she will feel when this is all over, once they’ve won – but what confidence she had in their supposed victory is slowly slipping, rising in the crests of the waves above and evading her.


End file.
